I didn't have to lose you
by kulsumj
Summary: A fic based on Olicity. After 3x09 and possibly later, when Oliver returns from the cliff, and of course, his death. Felicity, and team arrow have been under the impression that he is dead, and this is him coming back, for him. for felicity. ((Written while very high and very obsessed with olicity)) tumblr: cramblings


He stood there, his chest rising with every haunted thought passing through his mind, hovering just a moment too long, enough to make him curdle. His knees buckled. His heart, where the wound was inflicted, the blade he'd chosen shafted into him with a clean sounding "shftt", still hurt. Images of that night still rose in front of his eyes to cause his breath to quicken, and he'd try to squash them with every ounce of his energy. He'd tried to push them off the cliff in his mind, the way he had fallen, but he'd gotten up, and so did this memory.

He looked around the foundry, trying to still the buzzing of his mind with the quiet embrace of her love that still emanated around this place. Or the "arrow cave" she'd so fondly classified it as. He dropped his sand coloured side bag on the floor, shuffling towards the trio of computers. They'd been left on, softly humming, indicating that Felicity was not so far away, because why else would she leave them switched on? He noticed how she always switched them off, a grace she called "energy saving", and he'd smiled when she'd complain about how the "planet was running low on fuels and conservation was so very necessary" while simultaneously looking over her glasses at him and finding Sara's killer with the soft tapping of her nails to her much loved keyboard.

He sat down on her swivelling chair, groaning with the effort to drop down into it. He sighed. Why hadn't he come back sooner? But he knew the answer. He had needed to be well enough to hold her in his arms when he saw her again, and before now, and even now, he was still unable to do simple things without moaning. His heart had had enough pain, and staying away for even a couple of weeks had proved too much for him. So he'd found his way back. Back to where he really belonged. Here. Where she was. Where his Felicity was.

An hour passed, and he'd gotten used to his own silence, so when the lights of the foundry flickered back on with the upwards pull of the lever, he did not register it. He didn't hear the memorable gentle click clack of heels, and when they stopped, 7 steps short of where he sat with his head resting on his hand.

She whimpered. She winced. She almost turned back around and accidentally threw his familiar stash of arrows off the long, silver table on the floor, grumbling all the while. It was this noise that awoke him from his slumber. He half expected her to be picking up the arrows from his little satchel, an annoying habit of hers to pick anything that had been dropped up straight away, but she stood there, gazing at him. The same expression residing on her face from when he left her, his last words of "I love you" echoing in the empty foundry and her mind.

"oliver." She managed. A whisper. Light on the ears, but heavy enough to weigh him down all over again. He had wanted to hear her say it just one more time, one more time.

"felicity." His voice was not masked with the pretence of trying to hide his genuineness from her anymore. He loved her. She knew that. He couldn't say her name without becoming tender inside.

"you're…here. O-li-ver- you're.. You're… Here." Her loss of words said it all. He saw her right hand tear at each finger. He noticed how her mouth was still open. He gave in to how much all of this had hurt her.

He got up, albeit slowly, and limped, half hopping, towards her. His hand reached out for hers, but she pulled back, hastily. He couldn't be alive, after all. How could he be? Oliver Queen was dead. _Is_ dead. So how was he standing in front of her, his hand awaiting hers, his face full of sadness and hope and pain and love? She pinched herself.

"I must be dreaming. You're not real. Okay, I have had many dreams about this. Many many dreams, you'd come back. I'd be in shock. We'd hug. We'd start off, not from where we left off. Somewhere new this time. We'd-"She turned, placing her bag down with a loud, purposeful thud on the table so she could try and awaken her mind, when she noticed his bag, misplaced, on the floor besides his mannequin.  
"oh. Oh. Oh-" she wrapped her mouth with her hand and squeaked, before a guttural sound roused her senses yet again and she saw him standing there, still with his arm out in front of him.

"I'm here. Felicity, I'm here," and before she could register his movement, he'd somehow moved so much faster than when he'd first walked over to her, and he took her in his arms. He enveloped her, and even though stretching himself around her nearly caused his scar to reopen itself, spilling blood, he pursued. He needed to hold her. He wanted to stop breaking so quietly.

He wanted to start again. He wanted to love her and let that be enough to carry the pain he'd laid on her.

She moved her head from his chest, taking a small step back so she could take in his face. "you're..you're here. You came back. You- I didn't have to lose you. I didn't have to lose you." With a heavy hearted sigh, with tears rolling down her cheeks, with a loud sniff, she buried her face into his armpit. She grasped his torso tighter, gracefully enough not to hurt him wherever he had been, and he let his hand intertwine itself with locks of her dyed blonde hair.

He was back. He was not dead. He was only home.


End file.
